A Kingdom Free of Hassle
by Caelum Isleen
Summary: Ichigo and his Hollow disagree on many things... Inoue isn't one of them. IchiHime


A/N: I'm not too satisfied with this fic, as it was supposed to go through a completely different path than it did. For some reason, it evolved into something much more angsty and violent than I was hoping it would. Even so, I hope you guys like it. I guess you could really call it a love triangle between Orihime, Ichigo and his Hollow. Anyway, enjoy :]

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A KINGDOM FREE OF HASSLE

"_I can see it now, King. I can see it as clearly as day."_

"What are you talking about?"

"_The girl. Inoue. Orihime. Whatever you want to call her."_

"Don't even think about touching her."

"_See, King. That's what I was referring to."_

Ichigo helped the urge to bang his head on the wall and shut that inner voice out. His inner voice, in a way. But he didn't like to admit that. Admitting that was admitting the little shit to be part of him and that was out of the question. The **thing** that lived inside of him and that took every opportunity to possess him when _he_ thought him vulnerable and weak enough. To ascend to be the king and make him the horse.

Sometimes when he couldn't help it, _he_ played those games with him. Offering subtle hints about something or someone in an attempt to confuse him, make him drop his guard. _He_ enjoyed it as much as _he_ enjoyed killing because in a way, _he_ was killing Ichigo too. Slowly. Threatening him, laughing loudly inside his head, mocking him.

Zangetsu had never really gotten over the fact that _he_ was being controlled, that _he_ was being bossed around and kept in a jar from which _he_ could not escape no matter the proportion of _his_ rage. It was not _his_ way, to accept what _he_ believed _he_ could change with a snap of _his_ fingers, if _he_ tried hard enough. It was that confined existence that drove the Hollow to torment his suppressor to the point of almost driving him mad at times. And it was not just that; it was pure sadism.

But Ichigo was strong and he handled his Hollow well. It was only when his friends and family, the people he cared about the most, were mentioned by those foul lips that he felt himself breaking down.

"Shut up," he ordered with as much confidence as he could muster. He was tired. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while, thanks to all the Hollows invading the human world lately. They were usually dismissed soon enough but it took time, patience and a bit of skill which, despite the general idea, did wear him out to the core. It had to, after going through a similar routine for so many months. He wasn't the superman everyone thought him to be.

Zangetsu was as aware of his condition as he was. _He_ took advantage of it, mercilessly, hoping to find a gap where _he_ could slip through. The Hollow had tried several times in the past few days, several times a day. _He_ pushed harder and harder. And Ichigo pushed back with strength he was unaware of possessing but that he was grateful for, nonetheless. Ichigo wasn't the same weakling he used to be, unsure of his feelings and unsure of his capacities. Quite the contrary, in fact, and maybe that was the problem: he was too in touch with them. So his mental health was giving in because of the bastard that thrashed it daily.

He knew he couldn't allow that to happen, and he wouldn't.

"_Touched a nerve there, King?"_ the white devil asked and Ichigo could almost feel a smirk forming somewhere in the back of his skull, _"Why would that be, I wonder?"_

"Shut up, I said!" Ichigo snapped, his fingers tightly curled into a fist, "Don't you have anything better to do?"

He knew the answer before it was given to him, of course. After almost a year with a Hollow residing inside his being, there was little he could do to shut him out, and that forced him to get to know him. Unwilling, he had to admit that could be a useful thing. But right now, it was a complete hindrance.

"_I could think of a thing or two I'd like to do..."_ the Hollow continued saucily, _"... To our precious little princess."_

Without wanting to, he lost it. His knuckles collided with the wall by his side before he could stop them and excruciating pain began to spread up his arm like a spider web.

Momentarily, Zangetsu was silent and absent. Harming himself did the trick in shoving the hollow's sorry ass into the back of his mind, if only for a few seconds. Seconds he used to gather all his will and keep the white demon in the place _he_ should never have left in the first place. And as he closed his eyes firmly, focusing all his power into a single thing, he was able to arrange that. In a way.

He could feel his Hollow fighting it, fighting it badly. The white devil hated to be in the background, hated to be ignored. All those days trapped inside _his_ little shell with nothing to do and having but _his_ own company to pass the time by; it had to drive _his_ own self crazy at one point. Ichigo wouldn't be surprised if it did. But _he_ was a Hollow; after all, _he_ already had no true conscience to speak of. No morals, no virtues, no values. _He_ existed only within him, fused together with him, and there was no escape. _He_ was as limited as he was. And _he_ knew it.

Ichigo let out a sigh, allowing his body to decompress in the mattress for the first time.

Lately, that was all they talked about. Inoue. Orihime. That was all that filled their empty days and in another circumstances, he wouldn't object to it. She was more than welcome to infiltrate his thoughts any time she wished, since she was currently the only one not to bother him when that happened. No, she created the opposite effect: silencing his demons, wising him up, bringing some light to his gloomy existence.

Of course, whichever he experienced was automatically experienced by the Hollow as well. Perhaps not fully nor as substantially but definitely a good enough portion of it. It was what pissed Ichigo off the most, what made him most desperate and most worried. Knowing Zangetsu to share more of him than he wished _he_ did. Knowing Zangetsu took every advantage of it.

"_Hey there, King, don't relax just yet."_

"What the fuck do you want?" Ichigo growled, his patience null at this point, his heart racing faster than it would be normally advisable.

He couldn't help it. Lately it had been nearly impossible to control his emotions concerning whomever. That was, after all, part of the problem at hand – he hadn't been able to keep his feelings a secret. Not from _him_.

"_Don't worry. I'm not here to fight you."_

Ichigo arched an eyebrow. It wasn't the first time his Hollow tried to persuade him to trust _him_, to let his guard down, and there were never good intentions associated with those actions. Ichigo knew _he_ wanted to possess him, to rule. Those were as certain as the Earth revolving around the Sun, as gravity existing, as red hair being the most beautiful thing in the world.

But the Hollow's words still made him hope against all hope that _he_ was telling the truth. Made him doubt his intuition for once, to give _him_ the benefit of the doubt.

Not to say that he was completely naïve. There was something about the soothing tone Zangetsu used, something about the way _he_ attempted to conquer his trust that still didn't convince Ichigo. At all. But he wasn't in the mood for fighting either; he was mentally drained, physically aching. He needed to believe the peace offer to be genuine, at least before he could fully recover from his exhaustion.

"_Just to talk."_

It almost made him laugh, though the situation was completely humorless, and the throbbing of his tender muscles posed a barrier for that. His lean fingers massaged his temples for some feeble comfort.

"Talk, you say?"

He just wanted to sleep. Get some peace and quietude. Be alone, be free. He didn't ask for an alter ego. He didn't ask for a weak spot for a certain someone. When had it become such hell to breathe, he wondered? When had he ever feared his own self?

"_Yeah. You know, like the good ole times."_

Times he didn't wish to remember, Ichigo reminded himself.

Zangetsu would never let it go. Not when there was always something or someone to strike him with it.

"We've got nothing to say to each other," Ichigo replied, viciously, his teeth barred together. The more he listened to the Hollow, the more he broke down. Ignoring the white devil had never worked or been a solution and fighting _him_ was a lost cause as far as he knew; at least in the state he was in.

Ichigo had just been released from his patient's bed at his father's clinic with strict instructions to take it easy and not push himself. And he knew Isshin meant both physically and mentally. But Isshin didn't know. He couldn't understand what it was like.

"If you prize dear life you will leave my friends alone, all of them," he continued, unable to contain himself. He didn't like to threaten anyone; wasn't good at it. But he had to set his foot down before things got too far. And things were getting too far – the Hollow wanted to take the most prized possession Ichigo didn't even have yet.

"_I don't want to harm your friends, King," _the Hollow responded ever so calmly, exposing the obvious fact that Ichigo was the only one losing his temper there, because he had no control. And that notion only infuriated the redhead more, _"Why would I do it? What would be in it for me?"_

"We both know you don't need a reason," Ichigo cut him off, very well aware that _he_ was playing with him, enjoying it beyond words.

A thunderous laugh echoed in his mind, shaking him whole. Ichigo forced himself to hide the jittery feeling, the nervousness and the absolute panic. He wanted to listen to what the Hollow had more to say. Not seldom did Zangetsu leave hints and clues behind about _his_ plans, however small, inducing him into thinking one thing so that _he_ could perform the exact opposite afterwards. There were no commitments, no promises, no guarantees when it came to the resident monster.

"_True that, King. Very true. But still, I'm curious. Why haven't you told her yet?"_

Fuck him.

"Told whom what?"

"_Don't play dumb, King. The girl. The priestress. Orihime."_

At the sound of her name, Ichigo sprung from the bed with his hands deeply buried into his bright locks, grasping them fiercely. He couldn't. He couldn't let the fucker get to him.

"_That tightness in your chest. That pumping close to your ears. You want her all to yourself. How greedy."_

Upon his silence, upon being ignored, the Hollow continued with false indifference, _"It's not just you, though. I too am aiming to make her mine – ours. Get my reasoning yet, King?"_

"Shut the fuck up," Ichigo requested, no longer able to keep his act, no longer able to utter fearlessly. He was tired, exhausted, scared to death. Even though he didn't want to, there was nothing he could possibly do against his feelings. Hearing the Hollow speak about Orihime with want – the same want he too possessed – drove him insane. The need to protect her and, at the same time, the need to be near her were incompatible, a paradox. He couldn't overcome them.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he yelled, trapping his head between his knees. His breathing was accelerated, beads of sweat running down his scalp and forehead. He inhaled and exhaled to calm himself down, to gather his thoughts. Who the hell was beating him down and why the hell was he allowing them to do so? Where was his true character at a time like this and why wasn't he kicking the Hollow back to where _he_ belonged?

He could feel the burning in the corner of his eye spreading across the entire socket, burning and consuming. His breath caught in his throat the moment he realized what was happening and his impotence towards it.

Lifting his head towards the ceiling, the warm brown of his irises and the white of his sclera were for the most part tainted over. His mouth opened without any sound coming out of it; and as soon as it had started, it was gone.

Ichigo returned to his normal self, panting, trembling, but he was there. All him.

He couldn't keep the bitter smile that filled his livid face, the feeling of dominance that was like a drug.

"Too bad," he whispered to the one he knew to be hiding in shame, "You won't be having an opinion on the matter. _Horse_."

That same afternoon, while Ichigo was having a well-deserved nap, Orihime called. He hadn't expected her to; it wasn't customary. Her concern was always exposed in school, after he returned, never over the phone. Yet he couldn't be happier to hear her voice and sense the caring in her tone. He never felt more relieved that, for a moment in time, he could be completely alone with her even if it wasn't face to face.

Zangetsu's warning had triggered the exact opposite reaction from within him. And without waiting for his courage to die out, he confessed to her that day.

There just wasn't any time he could afford to lose now. For the first time, he found himself at peace. In silence. In a kingdom free of hassle.


End file.
